He stepped behind the podium and glanced at the index card where he’d jotted his notes for the day’s briefing. “Okay, we have a new max-one inmate. Name is Hawkins. He’ll be staying with us for the duration of his murder trial. Day shift sergeant advised me he didn’t give anyone a problem, yet. But he’s famous for his escape attempts. One was successful a few months ago. Took the cops two days to recapture him so keep a close eye on him.” A flutter of movement drew his attention to the back of the room.
Isabel’s hand shot up in the air.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
She stood up and clasped her hands in front of her. A single chestnut curl had escaped her tight bun and she tucked it behind her ear. “Do we know Hawkins’s MO for those escape attempts? It would be helpful if you could tell the officers exactly what they were supposed to be watching for. If you refer to page ninety-six of the Policy and Procedures manual, you’ll find a reference to protocol for briefing the staff in a situation such as this.”
Hushed whispers circulated amongst the officers.
He resisted rolling his eyes. “His methods varied each time. He tried to dig a tunnel around the plumbing lines once. Got a good ten feet hollowed out before it was discovered. As an inmate worker, he buried himself in a kitchen trashcan until he realized they used a compactor, so he gave himself up.”
Damn woman was distracting him—batting those long, dark eyelashes. Who had eyes that color anyway? They reminded him of a jar of fine whiskey. He shook his head, trying to rein in his concentration. He gripped the edge of the lectern. “Just watch him. My officers all have lots of experience. You all know what to look for.”
He checked his notes since her question had knocked him off course. “Anyone interested in a position in the medical department, please email Corporal Duffy in HR.” Moving the lectern aside, he cleared an area large enough to safely demonstrate one of the takedown techniques he’d learned in a recent Defensive Tactics course. Then he set a padded vinyl mat on the floor.
“As you all know, I like to pass along what I learn in the classes the jail pays me to take. Tonight I’m going to show you a leg sweep.” He stepped closer to the first row of chairs. “This is a great move to take an inmate down quickly. You’re going to grab his left or right pant leg—whichever is easier to access—and yank his leg out to the side. At the same time, you pull his opposite shoulder backward, disrupting his base.”
He rubbed his hands together, looking over the group for a good candidate to help him demonstrate the technique. “Who wants to knock me to the floor tonight?”
As usual, not a single hand went up. “Come on, people.”
In the last row, a single hand went up. “I’ll do it,” Belle offered.
He held back a grin. The woman’s adorable butt had been firmly plastered in a cushy office chair her entire career. He doubted she even attended the mandatory yearly physical training sessions the rest of the staff had to endure. She wanted to play with the big boys? Look like a fool? Sure. He’d facilitate that for her.
Motioning for her to come up front, he ignored the rumbling in the crowd. He watched her sidestep between chairs. Her hips shifted this way and that. He couldn’t help being riveted by that round ass and those perky breasts. Hell, he wasn’t the only guy in the room staring at the spectacle.
She finally made it up front and stood a couple of feet from him on the mat. The close proximity gave him a whiff of her strawberry scent. No one smelled that good here. That was wrong in a jail. Just plain wrong.
“Okay. What do I do?” Her stiff stance conveyed about as much warmth as an ice cube, but then she wasn’t here on a date.
“Stand behind me, facing me. Tuck in close to protect yourself from an elbow.”
She moved into position.
“Always do this takedown from behind. Remember to—” His left leg went out from under him and he immediately fell backward, landing on the mat flat on his ass.
The pain of the fall was nothing compared to the hoots, hollers and raucous laughter from his crew. Son of a bitch. But he guessed he’d probably be cutting up with them if he saw a five-foot-nothing woman take down a six-foot-one man who had at least seventy pounds on her.
“That was easy. Great technique.” Isabel—wearing a snug grin—offered him a hand up.
He got to his feet without her assistance.
She strode back to her seat as the laughter died down.
Disloyal bastards.
“Any questions?” He folded the mat and hung it on a hook on the wall. No one said anything. Glancing around for his three corporals, he said, “Anything to add?”
Again, nothing.
“Okay. Everyone get out there and have a safe shift.” He moved the podium back into place then waited for the officers to leave the room.
Belle lingered around her seat, picked up a cup someone had forgotten on the floor. But he got the distinct impression she’d purposely stayed behind to get him alone. What the hell did she want with him?
Belle bent to search under the chairs for any trash the officers had left. She didn’t see much.
Is this what I’ve worked my ass off for?
She wished her captain had explained better what he wanted her to do.
Get to know what working in operations entails. Shadow Sergeant Ramsey, he’d said. Yeah, the guy she’d just beaten out for a promotion was sure to be extra helpful. Not to mention that he’d dumped her two years earlier.
She’d nearly forgotten about Ram’s incredible turquoise eyes and that sexy-as-sin cleft in his chin. Those amazing broad shoulders looked even more massive than they had last time she’d seen him, if that were possible.
Damn my libido.
Why had she volunteered for his defensive tactics demonstration? The close contact had turned up her thermostat about a hundred degrees. She hadn’t meant to make him look foolish in front of his crew, but neither had she particularly felt like lying down and playing dead.
Ram loudly cleared his throat. “Can I help you find something, Lieutenant?” She stood up and squared her shoulders as she met his stare.
I will not allow him to intimidate me.
“Captain Carter suggested I get to know what it’s like to work in operations. In case I…” Damn. Why had she gone there?
His eyes narrowed and tiny muscles around his jaw quivered. “In case they move you over here? To be my boss?”
She gulped. “I want to shadow you. Just for a few nights. I’m sure it won’t take me long to learn the workings of the job.” At his scowl, she realized how bad that had sounded. “I didn’t mean—”
He cut her off with a stiff hand in the air. “No need to explain, Lieutenant.”
She took a step toward him. “Do we have to keep this so formal, Ram?” Lord, he towered over her.
“This is my shift, my crew, my building. As long as you get that straight, we’ll be fine.” With his hands on his waist, he looked like a damn brick wall in front of her. A brick wall of pure muscle.
“Fine.” She ought to be offended by his territorial statement, yet she couldn’t deny that his gruff attitude made her nipples peak. And his scent—pure male—permeated the air around her.
I shouldn’t be having these thoughts.
He’d made it clear after they’d gone out on a few dates that he wasn’t interested. Sure, he’d made some excuse about his divorce putting him through hell, but then he’d never called her after it was over.
“You want to see what I do or not?” Ram opened the door and gestured for her to go ahead of him.
Squaring her shoulders, she strode into the hallway. “What’s our agenda?”
“Our agenda?”
She ignored his smirk.
“First I like to check all the control rooms. Since we just moved everyone into this building from the old main jail a few weeks ago, I want to make sure all my control desk monitors are comfortable with the new system and that the equipment is working properly. If we need tech sup
port, best to let them know before midnight or else it takes hours to get them over here.”
She fell in step with him down the white-on-white corridor but she practically had to run to keep up with his big strides. By the time they arrived at the first control room she was practically gasping for air.
Ram hit the green button by the entrance and one of the officers inside glanced up at them through the Plexiglas and nodded. The door buzzed then opened with a mechanical hum.
The three officers in the control room—two women and one man—all sat up straighter when she entered ahead of Ram.
“Relax, folks.” He tipped his chin toward her. “She’s just shadowing me, learning about how the jail works.”
Isabel clenched her jaw.
Learning about how the jail works.
As if she hadn’t been working there for more than seven years. The moment they left the room and the door slid shut, she grabbed his arm and dragged him to a stop. “I resent that you implied I don’t know a single thing about how this place runs. I’ve got a degree in criminal justice and I started as a corrections officer and fought my way through the ranks just like you. I’ve worked my tail off here. I know every rule and regulation, every policy and I’ve even drafted many of our internal forms.”
“I see.” His chuckle caught her off guard.
“What’s so amusing?”
He took a step closer and stared down at her. She shouldn’t like how he hulked over her but she did. Moisture pooled between her legs.
“I’m sure you know what the rules and procedures look like on paper. But I know what they look like in practice.” He moved even closer. So near she could swear she heard his heartbeat. Nope—that was hers, pounding furiously.
“While your behind was stuck in a chair in a cushy office with a bowl of potpourri on your desk, mine was walking the floor, dealing with violent or mentally unstable inmates. While you were making spreadsheets at a computer I was dealing with Uses of Force and issues between officers. While you were placing orders for toilet paper and mops, I was doing CPR on junkies who were going through life-threatening withdrawals.”
She backed away but he bracketed himself over her, each of his hands flat on the wall on either side of her head.
“While you were sipping your lattes over in administration, I was taking apart cells searching for contraband.” Muscles on his neck corded and his skin reddened. His breath gusted over her forehead, heating her insides and slicking her sex.
Flattening herself against the concrete block, she wished he’d kiss her. Totally inappropriate, of course, and completely against every rule in the book but she couldn’t control her fantasies. “I-I see your point. But I wouldn’t say that empirical expertise is better or worse than theoretical.” What a lousy argument. If she were able to think with him hovering over her, stirring up her sex drive, she’d have come up with a better case.
“You wouldn’t, huh?” He shoved off the wall and she immediately mourned the loss of contact. “You bureaucrats are something else. Want to know why my people are so damn uncomfortable around you?”
Swallowing hard, she nodded, although she probably didn’t want to hear what he had to say.
“Because people like you walk around this place with a stick up your ass, thinking you know how to work a job you’ve never done. Down here in the trenches they call you Isa-bitch Buchanan. Why? Cause you and your cronies show your face here once or twice a year so you feel like you know what’s going on when you don’t have a fucking clue.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and turned away from her.
She took advantage of the opportunity to release the breath she’d been holding. Why wasn’t she fighting back? She’d been vice-president of her high school debate team yet her mind turned to mush when he was around. “I never thought of it that way, but I suppose you have a point. Which is why I want to learn all I can from you.”
Granny always said you catch more flies with honey.
This might take more than one shift. Her heart fluttered when she thought about spending more time with him.
Ridiculous.
He’d made it clear he wasn’t interested a long time ago. Why would he have changed his mind?
“I have to do my nightly check of the old jail building. It’s a little creepy now that it’s empty and only running with the auxiliary lighting.” He rolled his eyes. “When a power surge shorted out the electrical system there, the chief elected not to have it fixed since they’re tearing the place down in a few weeks.”
An excited shiver raced up her spine. Being alone with Ram in a dark, deserted building sounded too enticing.
“I’ll understand if you don’t want to come.” He gestured toward the break room behind her. “You can grab a cup of coffee and a snack while you wait.”
She straightened. “I’m not afraid of the dark, Sergeant.”
But when he let her into the sixty-year-old building, she wondered if she’d made a mistake. She stuck as close to him as she could as they climbed the stairs and strode the catwalk.
Ram shined his flashlight into each cell but the illumination didn’t banish the scary. Shadows took on macabre shapes as their footsteps echoed in the cavernous space. Something slithered over her boot. She immediately looked down and saw a dark, furry creature at her feet.
Belle’s scream felt as if it pierced Ram’s eardrum. She suddenly attached herself to his back, hooking her arms around his waist and plastering her curvy body to him.
He stumbled but quickly regained his balance. “What the—”
“A rat! There’s a rat.” She tightened her death grip around him. “On the floor. Kill it!”
He ignored the fact that his pants were growing significantly tighter in the groin area and instead, trained his flashlight on his feet, checking the immediate area. Either she’d imagined it or she’d frightened the poor creature as much as she had him. “It’s gone, Belle. Calm down.” He peeled her hands off of him. Taking her wrist, he pulled her around him and tucked her against his chest. So much for her precious protocol.
“I-I’m sorry.” She smoothed down a few hairs that had escaped her bun. “I don’t like rats.”
With that, another one ran across the catwalk a few feet in front of them. She let out a terrified cry then buried her head into the crook of his arm.
She whimpered and trembled like a scared kid. He grasped her shoulders and forced her back a few inches, enough so he could see her face. God, she looked so helpless and frightened. His breath locked in his throat. “Don’t worry. It’s gone.” She’d never last in the trenches. “You know if they put you in operations you’ll have to learn to make peace with vermin.”
Her eyes widened. “But we spend all kinds of money on traps and poison.”
He nodded. “And none of that stuff can be placed anywhere an inmate can access it. There’s too much space left unprotected. I hope you don’t have the same reaction to cockroaches.”
“Of course not. I’ve seen several in the administration building.” She shivered then hugged her arms around her torso. “How bad are they in your building?”
He didn’t want her to be his boss, but he couldn’t lie to discourage her. “Not too bad. We only see a couple a week.”
“A week?” She backed a few inches away, putting space between them. Damn, maybe he shouldn’t have reassured her. He’d enjoyed having her so close, feeling the pull of her hot body. He skimmed his gaze over her and his balls ached with need.
“Can I ask you something?”
He straightened. “Of course.”
Her eyes shuttered. “When you took me out a couple years ago, what happened? I thought we had a connection.”
Shit. He hadn’t expected that. He knew he’d handled breaking things off with her badly. “Yeah, sorry about that. I was going through all sorts of heavy stuff. I should have explained all that better. I’m sorry, Belle. You’re right. I definitely wanted to explore that…connection.” Who was he kidding? She’d scar
ed the hell out of him with that curvy body and her gorgeous face. He’d felt such a powerful attraction that he’d run like a frightened kid.
Her expression softened as she looked up at him. But something changed in those eyes. He reached for her glasses and pulled them off her face to be sure.
Son of a bitch.
There it was, written all over her face. Desire.
Not that he could deny his own. Shit, it was obvious from the huge bulge in his pants. He slid his hands down her arms and pulled her against him, against his erection.
She was breathing harder, staring at his mouth, lifting on her toes to get closer. Something primal and undeniable overtook him. He slipped her glasses into her breast pocket then lifted her wrists to the bars behind her and watched her eyes darken with passion. And something else. She wanted him to manhandle her.
The scent of her arousal permeated the air. Sealing his lips over hers, he took her mouth, hard and rough. Belle squirmed against him, rubbing her body over his erection. Oh yeah. She had a need that spoke to him, an unfulfilled need.
God, she tasted so good, he couldn’t stop kissing her. She moaned into his mouth, let him know she was just as turned on as he. Moving one hand along her side, he longed to rip the uniform off of her, to feel her luscious curves.
She twined her fingers around the bars, breathing heavy.
Is it my imagination or are my instincts on target?
He cupped her breast. The point was so rigid he could feel it poking against her shirt. Breaking their lip lock, he lowered his mouth to her other breast and caught her nipple through the fabric. The harder he bit, the more she squirmed and moaned.
“Yes, oh yes,” she whispered.
He reached between her legs and rubbed her, nearly scorching his hand on her heat.
I’ll be damned.
He didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out that she’d probably enjoy having him tie her up. The way she held on to the bars was a dead giveaway. Belle had an unfulfilled desire to be dominated and the idea of having his way with her heated up his blood. She might be his superior, but she needed to be mastered in the bedroom and he was just the man for the job.
Shades of Sexy: Six Uber Hot Stories Page 22
